Luck Of The Partly Irish
by rankamateur
Summary: Amanda, as usual, comes up with the clue that solves the case.


Title: "Luck Of The Partly Irish" (Was "Erin Go.....What?")   
Author: rankamateur   
Summary: Amanda, as usual, comes up with an obscure piece of information that helps solve the case   
Time frame: Before Deadmen Leave No Trails   
Type: AU   
Rating: PG?   
Disclaimer: Scarecrow and Mrs. King are the property of Warner Brothers and Shoot The Moon   
Enterprises Ltd.   
Author's Notes: Thanks to a kind lady who performed the tedious job of initial beta-ing (is that a word?) this piece and thanks for her suggestions. Also, she cannot be held accountable for the final version!   
Revised November 2001 - thanks to Erin for her thoughtful suggestions.   
  
*************************************   
  
Lee smiled to himself as he sat in the Q-Bureau contemplating tonight's assignment. Normally he would have tried to avoid this sort of thing. Meeting with a deep cover Agent and taking the information gathered so far, was one thing. But trying to assess the man's emotional situation - was he fit to continue under cover or should he be brought in because the stress was getting to him. That was a job for Dr. Pfaff or someone from the Psyche Department.   
'Of course,' he thought, 'Dr. Pfaff doesn't make house calls.'   
This agent, Michael Reilly, wasn't like Ted Rudolph, who had demanded to be brought "in from   
the cold". Reilly simply had left a message at one of the Agency's drop sites, saying he had important information and needed to talk to someone soon.   
However, it was policy to check on agents who had been undercover for a while....just to make sure they were holding up under the stress and, most of all, to make sure they had not been "turned".   
Lee was not comfortable with trying to read other people's minds, but, as a Senior Agent, he was considered qualified to make an initial evaluation. At least he would have help-- Amanda.   
  
Earlier, during his briefing, Billy had finished up with the suggestion that Amanda go along.   
  
"Make it a casual evening, dinner for three old friends kind of thing. Amanda is very good at reading people; she can help you with the evaluation."   
  
That was fine with Lee. He had been doing some evaluating of his own lately, trying to sort out his feelings for Amanda. He had finally acknowledged that his feelings had changed. Instead of growling at the idea of being paired as a "partner" with some housewife from Arlington, as he had in the early days of their relationship, he had come to look forward to their working together and increasingly felt...well, lonely when they weren't together.   
He had thought a great deal about that fact since …what had he called it ... "a chicken feed assignment," checking on Peter Sacker, tax-protester and all around nut case.   
They had ended up running through the Virginia woods, wondering if they would make it out alive! He remembered exactly what they had said to each other, remembered the sudden cramp, turning toward Amanda's upturned face, that almost kiss. If only Sacker's goons hadn't shown up, at least not for a few more minutes.   
And what did Amanda mean by her response, "not exactly", to his remark about '...just two cold people....'.   
He wanted to know - "exactly."   
  
He was sure that Amanda cared for him as a partner and as a friend. She had shown him that   
in so many ways, on so many occasions over time. Actually it had been over two years, going on three.   
Now, as he found himself actually considering the possibility that he had fallen in love with Amanda King, was there a chance that she could, possibly, feel the same about him?   
  
'Wait a minute, fallen in love with Amanda?' He wasn't ready to admit that, not even to himself. 'Where did *that* come from?' It *came* from some deep and hidden place in his mind.......or his heart. But a place that was not as deep and hidden as it used to be. Thoughts of her came to the surface more and more often. He couldn't deny that he was attracted to her on a purely physical level, after all, she was a beautiful woman. And she was smart, had good instincts for the job they did, and she was warm and caring and ..... But she was a suburban mother of two boys. Hardly the type that Scarecrow, the Don Giovanni of Georgetown, would be interested in. On the other hand Lee Stetson, the man who more and more often stepped out from behind the Scarecrow facade and talked to, confided in and very much enjoyed being with the affable and understanding Mrs. King - that man might find a housewife and mother very appealing. He had only a few, hazy memories of his mother. But watching Amanda with her boys, he thought that could easily have been the way it was with him and his mom. He could visualize his own mother holding him, kissing the bumps and bruises, wiping away his tears, and just, well...just making things all right again. When he got a little older, if his mom had been there, maybe she wouldn't have been a Little League manager like Amanda, but she would have come to his games and cheered him on, the way Amanda did for Philip and Jamie. Amanda and Jennifer would have had a lot of things in common, especially raising their boys. If he ever had kids, which he really doubted, he would want their mom to be like his mom - or be like Amanda - or he would like their mom to *be* Amanda.   
'Oh boy, this is getting way out of hand,' Lee thought. 'Come on Stetson, let's just concentrate on tonight's assignment and worry about your feelings for Amanda some other time.'   
  
________________________________________________________________   
  
  
Amanda tapped on the door, opened it and stuck her head in far enough to say that she was on her way home. "What time do you want to pick me up," she asked.   
  
"How about 5:30," Lee responded. "That should give us plenty of time to get to the meeting   
place by 6:00. Your Mother and the boys are away this weekend?"   
  
"Yes, Joe's taken the boys camping and Mother is visiting her sister."   
  
"So, I can come to the front door, just like a real date?"   
  
"Well, yes you can. That'll be different, won't it? See ya' later."   
  
"See you later, Amanda."   
______________________________________________________________________   
  
'Like a real date', Amanda thought. 'Now what does he mean by that?' According to Billy, they   
were supposed to meet some agent, Reilly his name was, take the information about the case he was   
working on and try and decide whether the man should be left out in the field. 'Sounds like work to me, so what does Lee have in mind?'   
  
Amanda decided to wear the lovely white cocktail dress she had worn on her one and only date with   
Alan Chamberlain. Well, it wasn't a date, "it was business." That's what she told her family at the time and   
actually, it turned out to be - "just business."   
  
Lee was exactly on time, ringing the bell at 5:30. Amanda opened the door and stood for a   
moment, smiling up at him. "Come in."   
  
"Thanks," Lee responded, handing her a bouquet of flowers.   
  
"Oh, they're lovely, but you didn't have to..."   
  
"Hey, I wanted to," Lee interjected.   
  
"I'll put them in water, and then we can be on our way." Amanda took the flowers and headed for the kitchen.   
  
'Wow,' Lee thought to himself. 'She looks gorgeous!'   
  
Having finished with the flowers, Amanda came back to the entry hall, purse in hand. "Shall we go?   
  
"Yes ma'am." Lee winked at her, "You look fabulous."   
  
"Thank you - so do you," Amanda responded, wondering if her cheeks were as red as they felt.   
  
They walked toward the car and Lee put his hand on the small of her back, as he had done so many times. As he helped her into the 'Vette, he silently thanked his uncle, the Colonel, for teaching him the ways of an Officer and a Gentleman. Well, not an officer literally, but a gentleman certainly - the hand on the small of the back, or supportively taking the lady's elbow. Lee thought he knew how to make a woman feel special and he hoped he had always made Amanda feel special.   
He certainly wanted to make her feel special tonight.   
  
The drive to the meeting place, a lovely area by the river, was accomplished mostly in silence. In fact, Lee thought, this much silence was distinctly unAmanda-like. He wondered why and hoped that nothing was wrong.   
  
Amanda knew she was being uncharacteristically quiet, which she couldn't explain, even to herself. She had a strange sense of anticipation, which she couldn't explain either...   
  
Lee parked the car, helped Amanda out and they walked toward the steps leading down to the   
promenade. It was a beautiful evening. The sun was low in the sky, the air was warm and scented with   
something Amanda couldn't identify, but which was very pleasant. It was rather like being in a fragrant garden. They walked along in silence, Lee's arm around Amanda's waist. The river was on one side and a grassy area, dotted with brightly colored foliage and wooden benches, was on the other side of the pathway. The setting was just perfect.   
In the distance he could see couples walking arm in arm or hand in hand. The whole scene was so...so romantic; a fact which, he was sure, was not lost on his companion.   
Suddenly, he had an irresistible urge to take Amanda in his arms and kiss her.   
  
'What *are* you thinking - you idiot! Well, maybe the timing isn't all that bad. I wonder what she would do if I kissed her, really kissed her?'   
  
He stopped... "Amanda."   
'What do you think you are you doing Stetson,' he hoped he hadn't said that out loud. 'This is *work* and kissing Amanda is not necessary to your assignment,' he said to himself, sternly.   
  
For some reason, Lee wasn't listening to himself, not this time.   
  
She stopped, turned and looked at him. "What?"   
  
Lee put his other arm around her waist and drew her closer to him, leaned forward so that his lips were touching her forehead. "I think…I believe we're being watched...no don't look around, just..." He   
hesitated. He had started to say 'trust me' but since he was being completely disingenuous with her, asking   
her to trust him, as he had done so often in the past, seemed, well, not quite right.   
  
"Just go along with me, OK?"   
  
"OK," Amanda answered. 'Go along with what', she wondered…just what did her partner have in mind.   
  
Lee moved his lips along the side of Amanda's face until he came to her lips. He began kissing   
her in a sweet, gentle way. Amanda immediately thought of their mission on the cruise ship - the phony   
marriage on San … San… What was the name of that island? With Lee's lips pressed against hers she   
just couldn't focus on the answer, but she responded as she had on that occasion, answering his   
warm kisses with her own.   
  
'This reminds me of that wedding ceremony we went through on San Angelo,' Lee thought.   
'Nice, a very pleasant cover.'   
But tonight he wanted something more. Lee pulled back just a bit. "Amanda..... " His voice trailed off. "Please," he said in a questioning tone. Then, drawing her closer to him, he began to kiss her a little harder, with a depth of feeling that surprised him.   
  
Amanda's hands had been resting on his upper arms and now she moved them up, across Lee's shoulders, to the back of his neck. She moved her fingers gently, hesitantly, through the hair that hung over the back of his collar. Then, as she felt herself returning his kisses, matching his intensity, she simply held on to his neck. All of a sudden, she had the distinct impression that she was falling.   
  
'Oh my gosh,' she thought. 'What's going on here?' This seemed like more than just 'playing   
their cover,' a great deal more. Not that it wasn't exactly what she had dreamed about for a very long   
time, but what was Lee up to, what was he trying to prove? Lost in the moment, she decided to enjoy   
this little dream come true and analyze it later.   
  
Once again, Lee pulled back, just a bit. Amanda's eyes opened and he looked into those   
wonderful brown eyes he loved so much. He loved her eyes, her warmth, her sense of humor, her   
courage in the most trying and difficult of circumstances -- who was he kidding? At this moment he   
loved Amanda, period.   
  
As she felt his slight movement, Amanda opened her eyes and looked directly in Lee's eyes, those   
beautiful, beautiful, beautiful eyes. She held on to his neck even more tightly, fearing that if she didn't, her knees would buckle and she would wind up lying in a crumpled heap at his feet. Lee drew her even   
closer, if that were possible, and once again his mouth was on hers.   
  
Lee couldn't begin to describe the sensations he was experiencing. He couldn't remember ever   
having felt this way about any of the many women he had been with, not Dorothy or even Eva. He was lost in the sight, the sounds, the scent of Amanda. He felt out of control, pleasantly out of control.   
  
Out of control. That was something Lee never allowed himself to be. Not being in control,   
whatever the situation, could be dangerous for Lee the Agent and for Lee the man it meant being   
vulnerable. It could mean being hurt…again. Lee the little boy couldn't control the events of his life.   
Lee the adult would take charge and be in control, at all costs. At this moment the cost was wrenching   
himself away from Amanda. He pulled back so suddenly that he rather startled himself. Amanda   
sighed deeply and let her forehead rest against his chest, just for a moment, before straightening up and looking questioningly into his eyes.   
  
"It's OK," he mumbled, "They're gone. I'm pretty sure they are gone."   
  
"All right," Amanda responded, her voice even huskier than usual.   
  
Amanda turned a bit so that they were side by side once again. Lee put his arm around her waist.   
  
'At least she didn't slap my face.' Lee smiled inwardly. 'In fact, I think she enjoyed it as much as I did.'   
A very good sign.   
"Perfect," he said, looking down at her, "you're perfect." 'Damn,' he thought, 'I meant to say the cover was perfect.'   
  
'Perfect,' Amanda thought. 'He said, "You're PERFECT". Well, if *it's* so perfect and *I'm* so perfect, then why did he stop? Oh my gosh…what if he hadn't?'   
  
Lee guided Amanda along the Promenade for another thirty or forty feet, until they were standing just below one of those areas of greenery with a bench in the center.   
  
"Reilly should be here by now." Lee checked his watch and it was about 2 minutes past 6:00, the time appointed for the meeting. "Stay here, I'm going up there and check things out."   
  
Without waiting for Amanda's response, Lee walked quickly up the slight incline to the bench.   
He looked behind the bench, then to the bushes at the side. What he saw sent a chill down his spine.   
There was a body, obviously a man's body, partially concealed by the shrubbery. He gingerly moved as close in as he could without disturbing what was now a crime scene and reached for the man's carotid artery. Nothing, no pulse. The body was still warm but the man was dead, no doubt about it. Yes, it was Reilly, Lee recognized him from an Agency photo ID.   
  
"Oh my g--" Lee thought. Had this guy been murdered while he was playing his little game with   
Amanda, not fifty feet away? No, surely he would have been aware, would have heard something....   
  
He ran back to where Amanda was waiting. "Come on. We've got to get to a phone and call Billy and the Metro Police."   
  
"Why? Lee, what's going on?" Amanda looked somewhat frightened at this turn of events.   
  
"It's Reilly," Lee answered. "He's dead."   
__________________________________________________________________________   
  
Billy and the Agency forensics team arrived in good time. They examined the body and the   
surrounding area with thoroughness and dispatch. The scene was then turned over to the local police and the Coroner's Office.   
Reilly's pockets were empty, there was nothing to identify him. There was one small item which the killers had missed, stuck in the cuff of Reilly's trousers ...a small piece of cardboard, it appeared to be part of a matchbook cover, with a few numbers on one side and some letters on the other. Agent Reilly had managed to leave one clue to the identity of his killers.   
  
"Billy, they must have been here while Amanda and I were standing down there waiting for Reilly to show up. They would have seen us, they can identify us." Lee seemed quite agitated, more than might be expected under the circumstances.   
  
"OK, Lee, OK. Calm down. What do you want me to do?" Billy asked.   
  
"Get Amanda out of here, her family is gone for the weekend. So, take her home to get a change of clothes, whatever she needs, and put her somewhere safe."   
  
"Good idea."   
"Amanda," Billy called her over and explained the plan. Amanda tried to demur, she didn't want to go to the old Cumberland Grand again. After her first experience the place didn't seem all that *safe* to her. But Billy and Lee both insisted. Billy called Jackson, an older man whom Amanda had seen in the bullpen but didn't really know, and gave him instructions about Mrs. King.   
  
"Watch it." Lee advised the other agent. "Make sure you're not being followed."   
  
"Will do, Scarecrow," Jackson replied. "Let's go, Mrs. King."   
  
As he wheeled the car in and out traffic, Jackson kept glancing at the rearview mirror. He made several unnecessary lane changes, plus a few other evasive maneuvers. Finally Amanda asked why.   
  
"I think we're being followed, Mrs. King. There's a dark blue sedan that seems to have been with us since we left the river. Look, hold on, I'm going to try and lose him at this next light."   
Arriving at the corner just as the light began to change, Jackson made a sharp left turn, dangerously close to oncoming traffic, and sped down the street. A few more turns and they were headed back in the right   
direction, toward Arlington.   
  
The man in the dark blue sedan slammed his fist against the steering wheel.   
  
"Bloody hell...I've lost 'em."   
_____________________________________________________________________   
  
Sitting at his rather battered old, dark oak desk, Jerry Bannion contemplated the two men standing before him. Jerry, a man of medium height and build with a rather florid complexion and thinning hair, didn't look like someone people had to be afraid of, but they were.   
  
"So, Devon, you lost the woman?"   
  
The dark-haired young man shuffled uneasily. "Yeah, I lost her, but the fella drivin' the car was a pro. Anybody could've lost 'em."   
  
"Hmm," Jerry turned his gaze to the other man. He was older than Devon, taller and heavier. He looked as though he could take care of himself in a fight, and probably had.   
  
"And you, Rourke, you didn't lose anybody because you didn't even follow anybody!"   
  
"Look, Jerry, the place was swarmin' with … first with Feds of some sort and then with DC cops. What was I supposed to do? It just didn't seem too smart to hang around. One thing, I'm sure they were American agents, not British."   
  
"So?" Jerry looked annoyed. "What would you expect on US soil? It doesn't matter. What matters is they were government, so we know our former friend was probably an agent or at least an informer. Well, we'll have to be more careful, but the deal with Morales is set for tomorrow night. We get the drugs from his people - we've got the rest of the money and we meet with Cavallo's men the night after that and make the trade for the explosives."   
  
"Yeah," Rourke interjected, "but then we've got to get 'em through customs and into England."   
  
"That's all arranged," Jerry responded. "Then our friends will get the attention of the chaps in   
White Hall," he said sarcastically. "Nothing like blowing a big hole in Harrod's or St. James Palace to   
make a few headlines."   
_______________________________________________________________________   
  
Agent Jackson pulled into the driveway of the King house. He waited in the family room while   
Amanda gathered some clothes and other necessities for a long weekend. She hurried downstairs and in a   
few minutes they were on their way to the old Cumberland Grand Hotel.   
  
_______________________________________________________________________________   
  
Lee paced back and forth in Billy's office. Billy hung up the phone and looked up at his best agent.   
  
"Lee, you can stop beating yourself over the head about a crime being committed while you   
were only fifty feet away. Our lab boys have determined that Reilly was killed elsewhere and the body   
placed where you found him. It looks like they beat the information out him and then took the body to   
the meeting place just to see who showed up. Probably, you were right about someone being there,   
watching. I glad we sent Amanda to the Cumberland."   
  
"What happened to that piece of match book," Lee asked.   
  
"It's here," Billy said, handing the only bit of evidence they had over to Lee. "First thing in the morning I want you and Amanda to start working on figuring out where this came from. For now, go home and get some sleep - that's an order Scarecrow!"   
  
_______________________________________________________________________   
  
Agent Jackson, Bob, they were on a first name basis by now, had asked Amanda if she were hungry - she was - and suggested they go down to a sort of employee cafeteria which was maintained at the hotel by the Agency. "It's not 5 Star but it'll fill the void," he told her. He was right on both counts   
.   
Amanda had spent the long hours of this evening dressed in the same lovely white outfit. She had hoped that Lee would be the agent who came to relieve Bob. But, when a light knock on the door came a few minutes before 11:00, it was a female agent, a Mrs. Anderson. She was a bit older than Amanda, a bit shorter and a little on the stocky side, but she had a pleasant expression and an air of competence about her. Amanda walked Agent Jackson, Bob, to the door and thanked him again for his kindness.   
  
"Good night Amanda and good luck."   
  
"Well now," said Mrs Anderson. "I'm here for the night Mrs. King, so if you're tired you just go right on in to bed."   
  
"Umm, well, now that you mention it, I am tired. It's been a pretty stressful evening. I think I will go to bed. Thanks, Mrs. Anderson. Good night." Amanda retired to the bedroom and closed the door.   
No luck - no Lee … 'Shoot!'   
  
Amanda slept fitfully and was up and in the shower by 6:45. When the next light tapping at the door came, at a few minutes after 7:00, it was Lee. Amanda thanked Mrs. Anderson, who left immediately, and then   
turned her attention to Lee. She had been curious as to what his demeanor might be after last night. Well,   
after the events of the early part of the evening. He was all business.   
  
"How are you Amanda? Were you able to sleep all right?" There was genuine concern in his voice. He did care about her well being, no doubt about that. "Billy wants us to work on the one little clue we have to Reilly's killers. I think we should go to the Agency in case we can come up with something that'll require checking records."   
  
"OK," Amanda responded, "I'm ready."   
  
"How about some breakfast first?"   
  
"I'm more than ready for that, but Lee..."   
  
"What?"   
  
"Could we eat somewhere else? I mean, not here in the cafeteria. The food's not very good."   
  
"You got it." Lee opened the door and as they left the room, he put his hand under Amanda's elbow, an all too familiar gesture.   
  
'It's as though last night never happened! Well, if he thought someone was watching us, then maybe for him it was just "playing our cover" - again.'   
  
She sighed softly. 'Guess I'll never break through that shell.'   
  
______________________________________________________________________   
  
As the waitress walked away with their orders, Lee handed Amanda the small piece of matchbook cover.   
  
"This was found in the cuff of Reilly's pants. He must have put it there figuring they'd turn his pockets inside out and get rid of anything that might identify him. So, what do you make of it?"   
  
Amanda looked at both sides … "Well, these numbers one - one - seven - one - … probably part of an address, right?"   
  
"That's what I thought. What about the letters on the inside?"   
  
"Hmmm, B - R - A -G - H … brag?"   
  
"Amanda, brag is B - R - A - G ."   
  
"I know that. Let's see … braf. No, wait, it's *braaaww*! That's it!." It's been a while but one of the boys, Jamie I think, had to do a project on Ireland. They have an expression, an old battle cry ...'Erin Go B R A G H'! And look at the color of the matchbook - Kelly green, wouldn't you say? That's it, it's Irish!"   
  
"Good work, Amanda. Now an Irish what …..what do you think we are looking for?"   
  
"I'd try a bar, well, they'd call it a pub."   
  
"Right." Lee walked to the back of the restaurant where the phone booth was located, checked the phone book and returned in a few minutes.   
  
"Talk about lucky, one of us must be part Irish. Look at this, I think I've got it. 'Bannion's Little Bit of Blarney', located at 11714 D St. We'll stop by Bannion's and see if we can pick up some souvenir matches."   
  
The stop at Bannion's Little Bit of Blarney was a very short one. The smell of stale beer at 8:15 in the morning was nauseating. The trip was worth it though; the remnant of matchbook found on Reilly was obviously torn from one of the Blarney's matchbooks.   
  
_____________________________________________________________________   
  
It was surprising how many Bannion's were in the various Agency databases, but, after about an hour of checking and cross-referencing, Amanda had a printout of information on their suspect: Gerald 'Jerry' Bannion, sole owner and proprietor of Bannion's Little Bit of Blarney.   
  
"Look at this …British Intelligence thinks Bannion was a weapons supplier for the IRA but never had enough evidence to charge him. Then, when he came to the US about ten years ago, they   
stopped their surveillance and just turned over what they had to the Agency. Here's an interesting   
thing," Amanda pointed to another paragraph, "One of his known associates is listed as an Arturo   
'Artie' Donatello, a soldier in the Cavallo Crime Family. What do you make of that?"   
  
Lee smiled. "Well, maybe they're friends because Arties's mother's Irish, but more likely, it means Bannion moves in some very rough circles. Vince Cavallo is into everything illegal you can think of!"   
  
Lee thought they had enough information to warrant staking out the bar. Billy agreed and arranged for a couple of junior agents to take the first watch. Lee would take over later, when it got dark.   
Realizing how tired he was, Lee decided to take Amanda back to the Cumberland and go home and get a little sleep. He had spent most of last night tossing and turning, thinking about the case and, most of all, thinking about Amanda.   
  
"You can pick me up about 6:15," Amanda said.   
  
"You don't need to go along on a stake out" Lee protested. "It could get dangerous."   
  
"I'll stay in the car."   
  
"Amanda, you never stay in the car."   
  
"After what happened to Reilly? I'll stay in the car."   
  
"OK, I give up. I'll see you about 6:15."   
  
"I'll wait for you downstairs," Amanda said, cheerily.   
  
"Fine," Lee sighed.   
_________________________________________________________________________   
  
  
Lee stole a glance at his partner. Actually, he was glad that Amanda had insisted on joining him.   
He missed her when she wasn't around and he didn't think this was going to be a dangerous situation.   
He had a gut feeling that tonight might be the prelude to something bigger. He intended to watch, take   
pictures and try and figure out what Bannion might be up to...what had cost poor Reilly his life.   
  
The evening had passed comfortably in idle chitchat. Now Amanda's thoughts turned again to the events of yesterday evening. She looked at Lee out of the corner of her eye and realized that he was looking at her. As she turned to face him, he flashed a smile, that dazzling smile. 'Does he know what effect that has on women - on me? Darn right he does!'   
  
Just as Amanda finished that thought, the back door of the bar opened and three men stepped into the alley. Lee recognized Bannion but not the two men with him. He did know that neither of them was Artie Donatello.   
  
Earlier, Jerry had told Artie that he could not go along. "You know that Morales will not deal with Vince. If any of his men see you and they know you work for Cavallo, then this whole deal could be off. Just wait here. We'll be back in about a hour."   
  
As the three men drove off, Lee eased the Corvette into traffic at a discreet distance behind them. He called Billy, who dispatched the two Agency teams, which had been waiting as backup. Lee provided directions as they drove toward a rather seedy part of DC.   
  
Bannion pulled onto a dark street, containing mostly boarded up buildings, and parked behind a van. He and his two henchmen got out of their car and walked up to the van, where they were greeted by two men. The three Agency cars stopped and parked nearly a block away. Lee and one agent from each of the other cars approached cautiously, until they could see what was happening and also hear bits and pieces of the conversation. Bannion was buying drugs, at least two kilos of cocaine. 'The good stuff,' one of the men commented. Having taken plenty of pictures with their night-vision cameras, the other agents retreated to their cars and drove away. Lee and Amanda followed, again at a discreet distance, but Bannion and his accomplices simply drove back to the bar and went inside.   
  
After another hour or so, Lee was convinced that the evening's activities were completed. He called Billy and advised him that they were going to call it a night. "Probably be a good idea to pick up the surveillance tomorrow."   
  
"Right," Billy agreed.   
___________________________________________________________________________   
  
"Amanda, would you like to stop for a nightcap?" Lee asked.   
  
"All right, just one drink and then it's home, or I guess back to the Cumberland, for me."   
  
They sat in a booth in the back, where it was quiet and dark. After the waitress brought their drinks, Lee started, "Amanda, I'm sure you're wondering about last night. I uhh .." His voice trailed off.   
  
"Well, I guess you were just playing your cover -- our cover," Amanda speculated.   
  
"It may have started off with just playing my cover," Lee hedged his words a bit so he wasn't telling an outright lie, "but it didn't....end up that way. I mean it, uh....I.....I mean." His voice trailed off. Scarecrow, the consummate ladies man, had become Lee Stetson, the stumbling novice who couldn't find the right words to express his feelings. He decided to try again. "Look, Amanda, I want you to know, I hope you know, that I would never do anything to…to compromise you or to take advantage of you. Your trust, your friendship, our whole relationship means too much to me for that."   
  
Lee looked at her intently, waiting for her response, but she just sat there looking back at him just as intently.   
  
'What in the world is he talking about? And I'm supposed to be the one who rambles.'   
Finally, she took one of Lee's hands in both of her hands. "I know you would never do anything to hurt me, not deliberately. We'll just put last night behind us."   
'At least for now,' Amanda thought.   
  
________________________________________________________________   
  
The next morning Amanda sat at her desk in the bullpen, trying to concentrate on what could best be described as 'busy work.'   
  
Lee was upstairs in the Q-Bureau putting some long overdue finishing touches on several rather old files.   
The phone rang. It was Billy. "Come down to my office, Scarecrow, I have some photographs I think will interest you."   
  
Delighted at the interruption, Lee went immediately to Billy's office. "Have a look at these. One of our stakeout teams just brought these in."   
  
"Who is this guy?" Lee asked.   
  
"That's Vito Columbo, the second in command of the Cavallo family. There's got to be something big happening, and soon. Maybe we should call the FBI in on this."   
  
"Oh yeah, and how about the DC Narc squad, after all, there were drugs being bought last night. Come on Billy, let's just keep it an Agency operation for now… too many cooks and all that - right? So, we have Artie, a Cavallo soldier, working in Bannion's organization. And now we have Columbo, who's Cavallo's right-hand man, meeting with Bannion. And, we know that Bannion probably was supplying the IRA with weapons."   
  
"And?" Billy asked.   
  
Lee began pacing back and forth in front of the desk, apparently lost in thought. Suddenly he stopped and turned toward his boss.   
"Billy, do you remember about six months ago, there was a robbery at a weapons facility in the mid-west, near Omaha I think, and some very new, very sophisticated explosives were stolen?"   
  
"You bet I remember. The Cavallo's have always been into weapons, and they were suspected of being involved in that one, but there was no way to prove it. That kind of high tech ordinance is right up   
Cavallo's alley and it's salable all over the world, including Ireland."   
  
"Or England. Or right here in DC." Lee smiled. Tonight could get very interesting.   
  
________________________________________________________________________-   
  
"Amanda, I don't know why I let you talk me into this. It really could get dangerous tonight."   
  
"Don't' worry, Lee, *I'll stay in the car*." They said the words simultaneously and then laughed.   
  
Bannion, together with Rourke, Devon and Donatello, emerged from the bar and got into a car.   
Three other men, whom Lee did not recognize but surmised were just some "muscle" along for the occasion, got into a second car and they all drove off. Lee started the 'vette and followed.   
  
"They're on the move, Billy," Lee said into the car phone.   
  
"Right, Scarecrow, we're moving too." Besides Lee and Amanda, Francine and himself, Billy had a dozen other agents in three other vehicles. He hoped it would be enough. Maybe he should have called in the FBI. 'Oh well, too late now.'   
  
As the cars moved through the streets, a sort of disconnected caravan, they approached the   
warehouse district, which was poorly lit and deserted at this time of evening. With less and less traffic   
to blend with, Lee slowed almost to a crawl and finally turned off the headlights. Bannion's cars were   
slowing and then pulled onto an empty lot and parked. Soon, three cars and a van pulled into the lot.   
Lee got on the car phone and gave as accurate a location as possible, hoping that there was a way some of the agency cars could go around the block and approach the lot from the other side.   
  
After a few moments, Bannion and his men got out of their cars and walked to the back of the van. They were joined by Columbo and several Cavallo soldiers. Unfortunately, Vince Cavallo wasn't there in person.   
  
"What a catch he would have made," Lee thought.   
__________________________________________________   
  
"Where's the stuff," Bannion asked.   
  
"It's in the van," Columbo answered.   
  
Looking inside Bannion, saw boxes and boxes of explosives. "I don't have room in my two cars for all that!"   
  
"Don't worry," Columbo said, "for two million, you can have the van too. You should have two keys of Morales' Colombian Best and the rest in cash."   
  
"I've got it. It's in the car."   
  
___________________________________________   
  
Billy, Francine and two other agents made their way toward Lee's car, hugging the walls and staying in the shadows as much as possible.   
  
Lee had exited the Corvette and was waiting in the shadows. "OK, Billy, looks like all the bad guys have arrived," he said.   
  
Billy's radio crackled. The other teams were in position and ready to go. Billy gave the signal and in a moment an Agency truck came screaming up from behind where Billy, Lee and their team were waiting, while the vehicles carrying the other teams of agents, came from the opposite direction.   
  
Billy raised a bullhorn, "Federal Agents. You are surrounded. Put your weapons on the ground and raise your hands."   
  
In the ensuing gunfire, two Cavallo soldiers, one of Bannion's men and one agent were wounded. As the shooting subsided and weapons were laid on the ground, agents moved in and began cuffing the suspects. Bannion thought he saw a way out. In the confusion, he ducked behind the van carrying the explosives and tried to make his way between cars toward the darkened, back part of the lot.   
  
Amanda, who of course had not stayed in the car, saw that Bannion was trying to get away and called out to her partner. Lee ran towards him and, using the hood of one of the cars as a springboard, dove onto Bannion, knocking him to the ground. The fight was short, as Bannion was no match for the younger man.   
  
One last, well-placed kick in the face and Bannion was down for the count.   
  
"All right!" Lee said with great satisfaction. "That was for Reilly!"   
_________________________________________________________________________   
  
TAG   
  
Sitting on the edge of a desk in the bullpen, Lee watched as Amanda finished typing up his - their -- report. She looked up, perhaps feeling his eyes on her, and smiled.   
He thought of the events of That Night. And the next night, when he had tried to talk to her about that evening; his convoluted explanation had done nothing to clarify his actions, to her or even to himself. What should he have said? That he simply had an overwhelming desire to take her in his arms and kiss her because he had....because he wanted to know if she had....and pretending it was just part of a cover was because he..... No, that wasn't exactly what he wanted to say. When it came to expressing his feelings to Amanda, he seemed to be at a loss for words - the right words, anyway.   
But the way she had responded to him gave him reason to hope - more than that - reason to *believe* that she perhaps she already *did* think of him as more than a partner, more than a good friend. He knew for sure that he thought of her as more than a partner, more than a friend, even his best friend. But she was not, would never be, just another conquest. No, Amanda meant family, home, a deep and lasting commitment. Something he just couldn't quite convince himself to make, not just yet.....   
The End 


End file.
